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First impressions leave a mark, they're quite unforgettable and Martyn knew now.
The first time he met Grian, he and his group were getting cornered by a hoard of zombies too big and too fast than his and Ren's guns could deal with.
Back then, Grian yelled in a tone that delivered his frustration and annoyance, yelling words that were directed to Etho because of their prior meeting that set them on the wrong footing.
Grian was a threat, that was his first impression. A threat because he was self sufficient, because he knew how the human body worked since he was a medical student, because he knew how to fight and follow his instincts well.
He was a threat, that impression solidified when Grian started interacting with the people in the main base, when he started visiting frequently and contributed to big changes was for the greater good of them all but had Martyn feel as if he was nothing but a waste of food and space.
Martyn perks up at the sound of the door creaking open, he lets his eyes drift to the entrance– he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and puffs out a cloud of smoke in annoyance.
"What do you want?" He grits out, glaring at the blonde who stood at the door.
Grian wore that trademark red sweater that everyone seems to know him for, Grey was not perched on his shoulder which leaves him feeling a tad bit uncomfortable.
There was a few seconds, the question hung in the air. Grian sighs and pulls his mask down, his honey brown eyes shone in the dim light of the moon.
"Can I stay here for a while?" Grian asks.
Martyn quirks an eyebrow, intrigued by the request.
"Your base is lovely and all but it's inhabitants could get quite… noisy while they're at it…" Grian murmurs.
It makes Martyn snort, "I reckon those three needed to be in each other's spaces after their close call."
There was a moment of silence, Martyn puts the cigarette up to his lips.
"If you're okay with breathing smoke then go ahead." He huffs.
Grian steps into the room and closes the door behind him, he walks to opposite side of the room and opens up a window.
Then there was long silence, Martyn tried to focus his mind on other things but somehow he always finds his eyes drifting back to look at the shorter blonde at the far side of the room.
Grian bathed in the moonlight that seeped from the window while he stared out into the dark sky.
"The moon is bright tonight." Grian comments, Martyn hums absentmindedly.
Grian turns to look at him.
"Usually, I'll stick around in Doc's lab but it seems like Doc needs it for himself." Grian said, Martyn takes the cigarette away from his lips and huffs.
"So you come to bother me instead?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow.
Grian scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest, "Look, I would stay outside but Suma and Keralis were going at it in the circle–" Martyn groans, annoyed, "–so even if I go into another building or wander around, as long at you're within close range, you'll hear them."
"What about the other buildings?" Martyn asks as he leans against a random desk.
"The other rooms are locked, the only rooms that are accessible and where you can't hear the noise is here and Doc's lab which is five floors above." Grian said with a shrug.
Martyn puts the cigarette in his mouth and mutters, "How unfortunate."
Grian sighs and goes back to staring out the window he had opened.
"And I doubt that I'll be getting any sleep tonight, either way." Grian murmurs.
Martyn stares at him for a few moments before he asks a little hesitantly, "Nightmares…?" Knowing that topics like this could be quite the fragile one, and Grian was never the one to hand over his weakness to other people, he has never been that trusting.
Grian stays silent for a few scant seconds before he nods, "And a light sleeper." He adds.
"... So basically you're an insomniac?" Martyn huffs.
Grian glances at him and shrugs, "Call it what you want, I guess."
"I'll call it what it is, doctor." Martyn retorts, there was tension in the air. He doesn't know how or why it happens, why he always seemed on edge whenever it was Grian he was talking with. There was something heavy but too familiar crackling in the air, Martyn recognized it. It was their shared annoyance towards each other and yet they find themselves sharing an abandoned classroom just to escape the night.
Martyn could see a glint of something in Grian's eyes, something dangerous and something he knew all too well and yet rather than an aggressive retort, which they always somehow end up throwing at each other, Grian looks away.
"I–... Not quite," Grian grits out and Martyn can feel the effort Grian was putting just to not snap back at him.
"I can sleep just fine when I'm back at my base, when I know that the area is secured, the temperature is to my liking and the sheets are my favored texture…" Grian says slowly and Martyn can't help but scoff.
"So you're an insomniac when you're not given the privilege to sleep like a pretty princess?" Martyn said.
He watches as Grian's fingers twitch, his eyebrows furrow and this mask moves slightly as he clenches his jaw.
Martyn smirks but his glee soon fades into confusion as Grian lets out a deep breath and chuckles.
"Aww, you think I'm pretty? Thank you, Martyn~" Grian sings songs in a sickeningly sweet tone as he turns to look at him.
Confusion then turns into annoyance that simmers under his skin, Martyn takes the cigarette away from his mouth and puffs out a cloud of smoke.
He levels Grian with a stare, eyebrows furrowed together as he stared back at those honey brown eyes. The longer he stares at him the more turbulent his annoyance whirls from his gut.
"Yeah, pretty childish." He retorts.
Grian's fingers twitch, he drums his fingers against his arm and tilts his head.
"And yet for how childish I am, I managed to save you and your gang–Oh! That's right, I saved your asses six times already." Grian retorts, who seems to have been annoyed enough that he isn't holding back anymore.
The mention of it makes Martyn's blood boil, he huffs and puts the cigarette to his lips in an attempt to put his mind on other things other tha–
"Stop moving will you!" Grian yells and holds him by his shoulders.
"Get of–" "If you move again, I swear that–that steel rod will peirce your fucking lung! So stop moving and let me help you before you make it worse!" Grian grits out, his hold on his shoulders tight to the point that– Martyn shakes his head to rid of the thoughts.
"You could have left me there to die, you know that very well and yet you still came there to save me. I don't owe you for something that I didn't ask you to do!" Martyn yells as he takes the cigarette away from his mouth and drops it on the floor, he stomps on it as he steps towards Grian's direction.
"I didn't say that you did owe me, now did I? All I ever said was that I'm childish and yet I still manage to save a ton of people, ain't that a bit ironic?" Grian says, as he lets his arms fall back to his sides.
The statement makes Martyn grit his teeth, the urge to march over and punch the shorter man almost overcomes him if it weren't for the fact that Grian sighs and looks away.
"How–... How is your wound healing?" Grian asks, his voice soft yet his tone blank–so uncharacteristically blank that–
Xisuma sighs, "Grian has a bad habit of treating things as if it was just a school project whenever he wants to run away from the situation he's facing."
Keralis' eyebrows furrow and his lips form into a thin line. "Isn't it hard?"
Xisuma tilts his head to the side confused. "Sorry?"
"The way he's locking everyone out and hides behind a facade of a star student." Keralis said.
"Isn't it hard? Isn't it hurting him? Making him feel lonely?" Keralis asks.
There was a moment of silence and Xisuma uses his thumb to trace the veins that ran along Keralis' hand.
"I–... I don't know, I've never gotten the guts to ask him." Xisuma murmured.
Martyn blinks away the memories and chooses to access the situation carefully.
"I haven't changed the bandage." He replies truthfully.
Grian's gaze snap towards him and narrow. "Why?" He questions.
Martyn isn't given the chance to talk as Grian continues.
"Your wound is still fresh and bleeding, correct? You have to change that regularly or else–!" Grian paused mid sentence, he grits his teeth and looks away.
Martyn's eyebrows furrow. Why does Grian care so much? There's no reason as to–
"Let me change it." Grian says yet he refuses to meet his gaze.
Martyn could feel a strange feeling coiling around his gut, almost over powering the annoyance whirled wildly just a few minutes ago.
"Why should I let you?" He challenges.
Truthfully the wound and the pain that comes along with it is bareable, almost ignorable if not for the slight discomfort that the bandages around it sometimes causes.
"Because I'm a doctor and I can't just stand here and do nothing when one of my patients clearly aren't taking care of themselves." Grian said.
Martyn huffs, "That's not a va–" "Because I care for you. I have no idea why but I just do–now let me change the fucking bandage, Martyn." Grian said hastily, so urgently that Martyn almost misses how he said a few words.
There was a moment of silence and Martyn stares at Grian with furrowed eyebrows, something warm whirls deep from his gut and finds a way to curl and crowd his chest yet he refuses to name nor acknowledge this feeling. He stares as Grian who opens a few more windows and lets out the smoke.
Martyn sits at a desk as he watches Grian disinfect the room, there was still annoyance that sat in his stomach and yet he can't bring himself to snap at the other man, not at the current situation.
"Take your shirt off." Grian demands.
Martyn scoffs, "It's a hoodie," he retorts.
"Just–" Grian sighs, looking away and clenching his fists. "Just take it off so we could be finished with this." Grian said, his tone dejected and Martyn bites the inside of his cheek.
"Fine…" he grumbles in return, slipping the hoodie off and revealing the bandage.
"Martyn–damnit, it's soaked!" Grian said.
"You don't–...!" the words of his retort get stuck on his throat as he finds Grian's hands trembling.
"Damnit…" Grian repeats as he takes out a tin box from one of his pockets along with a few rolls of bandages.
"It doesn't hurt, y'know…" Martyn murmurs. He doesn't know why Grian was acting so differently, acting like he almost cared for him.
Grian doesn't utter a word, Martyn allows him to take off the blood soaked bandage and clean him up. He tries his best to stay silent, a unusual feeling swelling in his chest as he watches Grian's trembling hands work, watches the frustrated expression plastered on Grian's face show worry whenever he hisses out a curse due to the stinging sensation the alcohol leaves.
Silence falls upon them and it stretches out until Grian wraps the bandage around his torso one last time and secures it. Grian's hand lingers on his chest, where the wound was, where he was fortunate enough to have the iron rod impale him in between the bone of his rib cage and not shatter the bones inside him. Fortunate enough that the iron rod itself didn't puncture his lungs.
"Damnit, Martyn…" Grian murmurs and there was something in his voice that makes Martyn heart's clench, pain and guilt burning through the fibers of his body.
"Don't let a bandage soak that long! Don't–don't–you'll get a fucking infection you bastard!" Grian yells as he clenches his fist against his chest.
"Grian–" "Get Doc to change it if you can't, or Zedaph, for heavens sake. Just don't do that again!" Martyn bites the inside of his cheek, a knot of complicated feelings forming itself in his throat.
There was a beat of silence, Martyn didn't know what pushed him to do it but he held Grian's wrist and gently placed it on top of the wound he had just dressed.
"I'll change it regularly, I promise." He murmurs.
Seconds of silence pass, Martyn watches closely as Grian lowers his head. It takes him a few seconds more to realize that the other man was crying and those small shimmering stars that we're falling down on the desk he was sitting on we're tears falling from Grian's eyes. And the realization hurts more than Martyn would have expected it, to learn that Grian –the all mighty and independent Grian– was crying, and he was crying because Martyn didn't take care of himself properly.
Grian's shoulders shake as he tries to muffle a sniffle, he tries to pull his hand back but Martyn refrains him from doing so.
"I'm sorry," The words fall out of his mouth so softly.
Those words ease the pain that crowds his chest, the pain that makes it hard to breathe and makes him feel as if he was getting closed in by tall walls. It makes him feel lighter, so much lighter that he can't help but think that saying those words were only right–"Grian, I'm sorry." He whispers and watches as Grian's facade starts to slip up, his emotions slowly pouring out.
Grian tries to pull his hand away once more but Martyn pulls him closer, he wraps and arm around Grian's shoulders and pulls him close to his chest. "I'm sorry," He repeats again.
It's when Grian's finally breaks. He cries, yet he tries to pull away–"Martyn, let go…" Grian pleads through sobs and Martyn swears that all of what's left from his heart shatters a little more when he hears the plea that leaves Grian's lips.
Martyn feels tears pricking the corners of his eyes, feeling the surges of emotions that he'd kept well under control and under wraps, keeping it under the radar and making sure that it wouldn't burden his decision making and by extension his teammates.
"Go put your hoodie on, you'll catch a cold…" Grian murmurs and forcefully pulls away.
It takes him by surprise that Grian is able to slip away from his arm but then he notices the way his hands also trembling as his emotions continue to whirl widely.
Grian stands there and attempts to wipe away the tears that still continue to fall from his face, Martyn hesitates but then decides to follow Grian's words and put on his hoodie.
Midway through putting it on, Martyn hears fast footsteps walking away from him and by the time he has the clothing completely on he was scrambling to run after the other man.
"Grian!" He yells, holding the blonde's red sweater on a tight grip.
He swears that he won't falter this time, he swears that he won't let him go. Because for some reason his chest aches, he longs, he needs to hold him close. Martyn quickly wraps his arms around Grian's torso and pulls him close.
"Grian, please." He doesn't know what he was pleading for, he doesn't what caused his tears to fall but he knew that he can't lose him. He can't let Grian go out that door and leave.
"Martyn…" Grian murmurs, his sobs shakes his shoulders harder this time.
"Let go, please…" Grian begs but Martyn pushes his face against his shoulder and pulls him closer.
"No," Martyn refused. He refuses to let him go, to let him leave.
"Martyn–" "Grian, please let me hold you." He says desperately.
"Please let me comfort you," Martyn says.
"Please let me take care of you too." And perhaps that was Grian's last straw.
Martyn catches Grian's weight and gently lowers them to the ground. It takes as second before loud and desperate sobs leave Grian's lips.
Martyn faintly registers how Grian tries to desperately wipe his tears away, how he tries to pull away one last time but Martyn holds onto him like he'll lose his own life if Grian's ever gets away.
"I'm sorry," Martyn murmurs against Grian's shoulder blades. "Grian, I'm sorry." He repeats and repeats, over and over and over until he almost forgot the meaning of the words that leave his mouth.
"I don't want to lose you too…" Grian murmurs, Hours after, when he's half asleep and exhausted against him.
Martyn lifts his head up and stares at Grian's face, he could feel something unfamiliar coiling around his gut as he sees the streaks of dried tears that formed on Grian's face. His puffy eyes and his disheveled appearance.
He takes one of his hands up to Grian's face and tries to wipe away the lines of dry tears. He felt frustrated when it didn't fade but he also felt guilt and hate burning up from deep inside him.
"I hate crying." Martyn murmurs, he hated the feeling of being vulnerable much less fragile in front of anyone. And yet here he was, after having a cry fest with the one person he swore he could murder in any other situation.
Martyn hesitates, because surely Grian wouldn't like it either when he wakes up. He wouldn't like the fact that Martyn hugged him, made him cry and refused to let him go… perhaps it wasn't in that order but leave him alone, he was exhausted.
He places Grian's head on his shoulder and flinches violently when he feels the man's warm breath hit his skin. He wasn't used to it, to having someone so close to him or in his personal space for that matter. "I bet you wouldn't like it either…" Martyn murmurs as he stares at a wall.
"I bet you when you wake up you'll try to punch me or something…" Martyn murmurs, thinking if he should stay in this intimate position with Grian or should he just leave.
He sighs and lowers his head, he could feel Grian's soft blonde locks against his cheek and he pauses before he follows the impulse to push his face against his soft blonde hair. Grian smelled of smoke and coffee, of something earthly, perhaps dirt–Grian did say he was gardening or something one time. Martyn just didn't care to listen.
"Who cares about what will happen in the morning?" He murmurs to himself.
"If you punch me or try to stab me that's fine," he said.
Seeing you cry made it worth it anyway. He thought to himself as he lays them both down on the cold, dusty floor, he pulls Grian close as physically possible and pushes his face against his blonde locks. It was not the best position to be sleeping in but Martyn made it work.
"Bloody bastard." He hears Grian's voice, there is a pause before he feels something warm press against his forehead.
"Don't get yourself killed… please."
Martyn jolts awake, he feels a blanket draped over him and he looks around frantically, feeling as if something was missing.
Then he realized that Grian had slipped away from his arms once again. He sighs and sits up, he finds that the room is submerged with sunlight and–"You got away again, Red…" Martyn murmurs as he stands up and takes the blanket that the gremlin had placed on him before he left.
Something catches the corner of his eye and he turned to find a meal prepared on one of the desks, not the small kind either. It's completed with a bowl of fruits and veggies that had been covered in cling wrap, a plate of beef and soup that–"Fucking bird brain…" Martyn mutters as he walks towards the table that holds the food packaged in plastic and finds a note.
Get that bandage changed later today you bastard, get it changed sooner if you bleed. Eat something before you go out to patrol with Ren.
~Red